Afterburn
by ktfranceebee
Summary: AU. Kurt decides to get a gym membership now that he is out of college and not as active as he was when he was involved in show choir. The personal trainer at the gym, Dave, insists that, in order to get the most out of his workout routine, he should receive more "individualized instruction." Dave seems fairly confident that he is just the man for that job.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or any of its characters.

**Prompt here: **glee - kink - meme . livejournal 38839 . html ? thread = 51722423 # t51722423

* * *

**Afterburn**

by ktfranceebee

_Chapter One_

_"Excess post-exercise oxygen consumption_ _, informally called afterburn, is a measurably increased rate of oxygen intake following strenuous activity intended to erase the body's "oxygen deficit.""_

Kurt enthusiastically skipped up the ramp leading to the fitness center, his hands gripping either end of the hand towel slung around his neck, and his duffle bag - containing a spare change of clothes, large towel, water bottle, hair spray, lotions, and face washes for his post-workout skin regime - bounced against his hip with each step. The air was cool on his arms as October was quickly approaching, and the sky was dark and completely devoid of stars. The bright city of Chicago saw to that.

Kurt was already feeling fantastic since he joined the gym a week ago. While he had always lived a relatively healthy lifestyle having participated in show choir while he was in both high school and college (and not to mention how his days as an intern were hectic ones), since working up to his position as a Commission Sales Professional in the Men's Retail Department at Bloomingdales, his lifestyle had become increasingly sedentary. While he was standing at all hours of the day, that was nothing in comparison to going on coffee runs for the higher-ups, hours of dance practice, and sashaying across a stage. While being on his feet all day would make most people want to turn away from the prospect of going to the gym, Kurt found that exercising a couple of days a week after a long day of work relieved him of the stress of having to deal with impossible and, more often than not, rude customers. Not to mention the fatigue of working out actually soothed the aching muscles in his legs, thanks to the help of his skilled, professional trainer, Dave.

_Dave._

Kurt sighed, letting the small smile linger around his mouth. David (as he liked to refer to him in his head) was kind, gentle, and_ amazing. _Kurt would be lying if he said he didn't have a little bit of a crush on that man, _already_. Kurt considered him a godsend, despite his disbelief in any sort of higher power, and it wasn't _only_ a result of his amazing instruction and his ability to motivate Kurt to push past what he believed to be his limit.

The gym wasn't a twenty-four hour one, but Kurt didn't get off until eight-thirty most nights, after the store closed. The gym, on the other hand, closed at ten. While Kurt was perfectly fine with just running on the treadmill for an hour, maybe cycling on an interval bike, or even getting his blood pumping on a elliptical machine, Dave, who had checked him out at the counter when he received his membership, seemed quite adamant in getting Kurt a personal trainer. Dave had explained the benefits of individualized instruction, such as targeting specific areas on the body, and Kurt had trouble disagreeing with such a sound argument - especially not when Kurt found himself entranced by the man's bright, hazel eyes and straight white teeth, which seemed to match the polo shirt he was wearing, which stretched across his chest and hugged his biceps like a second skin, perfectly.

The only problem was that the only hours available for a one-hour session would have to be between eight and nine (_that wouldn't work well, as that was the time Kurt had to get up at that time to go to work_), eleven and twelve (_it wasn't like Kurt had enough time on his lunch hour to go to the gym_), and four and five (_he'd still be working at that time_). Kurt insisted that it was fine. He had no problem working out on his own, but that was when Dave had flashed him a smile.

_"You know..."_ Kurt recalled him saying. He could remember exactly how his arched eyebrows raised innocently. _"The perks of being a personal trainer is that I have some semblance of control of my own hours."_ Kurt had hung onto every word that man said as he spoke. Kurt had nodded along as he continued. _"My last training session ends at ten o'clock, the same time this place closes. After closing up, I usually work out for a couple of hours..."_

'O_f course you do,'_ Kurt thought, nodding politely at the obvious statement. He was fairly certain that his eyes were glazed over. It was hard for Kurt not to let his eyes wander down the man's throat to his collar where the first button was popped open.

_"...before going home. I know that's kind of late,"_ he grimaced apologetically, _"but if you don't have any qualms about coming in so late, I'd have no problem sneaking you in to give you some… Individualized instruction."_

And there was no problem with that, _at all_, Kurt had responded. If any rational part of him found it strange that a man he just barely met was offering to let him into an desolate fitness center past closing time, that part of his mind had boarded a plane for Crazy Town and took off a long time ago.

Working out at night, however, did not bother Kurt in the least. He was able to go home and eat something, rest his feet, and take a quick nap before heading off for the center, which was only four blocks North of his apartment building (which only meant a five or six minute walk). It wasn't as though Kurt had to wake up at sunrise the next day. Besides, he had read about the benefits of working out at night: Something about participants of a study continuing to burn calories after a workout as they slept.

Anyways, Kurt had accepted the membership card with a dazed smile, which Dave returned, though a little more cognizant, and told Kurt that he would see him soon. Kurt could only nod as left the building.

It was quite pathetic actually.

Kurt had no basis on which he could determine Dave's sexuality. He wasn't one to judge people. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that gay men existed in the form of stereotypical fashion forward, flamboyant, and not to mention fabulous individuals such as himself. Kurt couldn't imagine why Dave would just offer to let him come in after hours for training. Maybe he was just a genuinely nice guy.

Gay or straight… Kurt wasn't about to complain.

Kurt was about to tap on the glass of the door, when he paused. He could see Dave in the vast room on one of the ellipticals. Kurt could see that he had changed out of the uniform that he normally wore at the front desk. Today, his work-out clothes consisted of a pair of black basketball shorts that showed off his thick calf muscles and a grey Hanes t-shirt with what looked like a red college hoodie with the sleeves cut off. Kurt had to resist the urge to press his face up against the glass or to drool and, instead, knocked on the door.

Dave didn't turn to look at him, but Kurt knew that he heard him because he stopped his movements (Kurt almost regretted knocking - he enjoyed watching the strain of the muscles in Dave's forearm as they lengthened and foreshortened as he pushed and pulled the handles back and forth) and got off the bike far too habitually considering this was only their fourth session. He picked up his hand towel and dabbed his forehead, which Kurt could imagine was already glistening with pearls of sweat. As he came upon the door, he picked up a set of keys from the front desk and threw the towel over his shoulder.

As Dave leisurely sorted through the number of keys on the metal loop, Kurt feigned impatience as he jokingly crossed his arms and tapped his foot against the concrete. Dave met his eyes through the glass and Kurt could see them twinkling with mirth as he tongued his cheek, trying not to smile. Kurt shivered inconspicuously at that image, and knew it had nothing to do with the cold and more to do where he would make Dave stick that tongue hadn't this been a _completely_ professional environment… And if he even had a chance in hell with someone as gorgeous as Dave.

Finally, Dave flicked what had to be the last key into his hand and placed it in the lock, turning it. After it clicked and he removed it, he held out the door for Kurt.

"Hey."

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**_I hope you enjoyed the first part and, before I forget, please note that I have never had a personal trainer in my life. I don't think I've ever gone to the gym (lol!), and, therefore, never had a personal trainer. I did try to do extensive research, however. And I'm fairly sure anyone would be fired if they decided to pull this stunt in real life. Please don't be mad at the lack of logic. I'm doing my best to fill what I thought was an awesome prompt._**


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee.

**A/N:** A bit of a spoiler, because I am inclined to post trigger warnings. This chapter contains brief, not so accidental, frottage. "Sneaky grinding", if you will.

* * *

**Afterburn**

by ktfranceebee

_Chapter Two_

"Hey," Dave said casually. His form was big enough to block the threshold of the door so Kurt had to squeeze in past him, his slight chest brushing against Dave's strong arms. He was practically a radiator, giving off so much heat from working out that Kurt could almost feel himself begin to sweat from that brief amount of contact. The contrast in temperature against his cold body made him suck in a breath of air.

"Hello," he said a little breathlessly. Dave looked at him curiously as he shut the door.

"You alright?" he questioned as he turned his head so that he was facing away from Kurt as he locked the door. Kurt toyed with the strap to his small duffle bag.

"Yeah, just a little cold, is all."

"Well, then." Kurt was certain that he could see Dave's reflection in the glass door smirking. "We'll just have to warm you up, won't we?"

Kurt started, "Wh-what?" He blinked in succession.

"I was thinking we'd work on your legs today and finish up with some cardio. Your arms are probably tired from the strength training from yesterday."

_'Right, exercise,'_ Kurt thought. _'Obviously he's talking about exercise.'_

"That sounds good to me." Kurt wasn't about to disagree. Dave had certainly pushed him the other day, having him do 3 reps of 15 seated shoulder presses, lateral raises, front raises, upright rows, concentration curls, overhead triceps extensions, among other free-weight, dumbbell exercises that Kurt couldn't remember the names of. Kurt left the gym that night feeling like the muscles in his arms were on fire from the lack of use and sudden abuse. He woke up the next morning feeling like they were made of lead. He didn't think - _and hoped_! - his legs wouldn't be as sore as his arms after tonight's session._ Those_ he actually needed for work.

"'Kay," Dave said moving past Kurt and over to his abandoned elliptical to retrieve his own bag. "Let's go upstairs."

Kurt immediately followed Dave to a door to the right of the front desk area marked off as the stairwell (there were a set of elevators adjacent to it). The gym, he found out, was quite huge – three stories actually. Not that he couldn't already tell from the outside.

The first floor consisted of the front desk and waiting area. To the right of the entrance was a full service restaurant specializing in preparing meals made out of healthy, organic food, as well as a juice bar - both closed obviously. To the left of the entrance, separated by a half wall were the ellipticals, where Dave had been working out. Straight across from the entrance and right between the elliptical and the front desk were two doors leading to the locker rooms. Kurt had yet to go to the second floor, but the third floor contained the weight equipment, as well as the strength training and cardiovascular machines.

"We'll be on the second floor today," Dave explained as he began, ascending the steps. Kurt was right on his tail… _Literally._ He couldn't complain much when it came to the view, or should he say, the direct line of sight that was Dave's ass right in front of his face.

_God,_ he was such a pervert.

"What's up there?" Kurt asked, trying to direct his attention away from the beautifully sculpted muscles before him. The black, netted polyester fabric rustled and swayed around it with each step.

Surely there was some amount of injustice in the world – the fact that Dave was more than able to put his hands on him whilst Kurt was left being unable to reciprocate the gentle touches he laid upon him as he corrected his posture while he did his tricep kickback exercises. How he placed one of his wonderfully large hands on the small of his back while he was in his bent over position, whilst the other pressed upward on his chest, his fingers dipping slightly into the malleable flesh through the fabric covering his chest, his thumb (and surely he must have imagined it) lightly tracing his clavicle.

"There are some empty rooms up here. During the day we hold yoga, Pilates, martial arts, and even dance classes," he added, "up here. We've also got a room full of the stationary bikes for the cycling class." As he reached the landing to the second floor, he turned around giving Kurt that fucking endearing, lopsided smile that made Kurt's stomach swoop like that time he went on that _Man of Steel_ ride when he road-tripped with a bunch of his college friends to _Six Flags._

"After you," Dave said. He propped the door open and Kurt slipped past him once more with a grateful smile.

When Kurt stepped out of the stairwell, he found himself in a long hallway. To his left and his right were walls made completely out of glass. He could see into each room, and in the two rooms closest to him, he could see that the inner wall was covered completely from to ceiling in mirror. It was a bit paradoxical, as he turned his head to look at the length of his body in the mirror to see a himself, but also a reflection of himself, reflecting himself, and so on.

"Coming?" Kurt felt a hand on his hip and he jolted. As he turned his head once more he saw Dave's face, just inches from his own. Kurt had trouble fighting of the shiver that ran through his body as he felt the hand slip off his waist, trailing briefly against the small of his back.

It had been so long since someone had touched him like that. Kurt felt like a part of him that had laid dormant for so long was beginning to waken in him once more. The part of him that pushed away any thought and prospect of being in an actual relationship for the past three years. That part that longed for something other than casual sex with a random hookup from the one of the many inner-city bars.

And he couldn't help but feel guilty because he knew Dave was only being friendly - that he was this touchy-feely with all of his clients in order for them to feel more at ease in a one-on-one environment.

"No!" Kurt mentally slapped himself. Why did he have to take everything as an innuendo? "I mean, yes."

"Just right through here is where we have our yoga classes. I should have told you to bring your mat, if you had one, but we have some spares in here that you can use." Like every other time, Dave pulled on the steel handle and held the door for Kurt. Adjacent to the door was a large plastic bin containing five or so rolled up yoga mats. Dave grabbed the forest green one on top and unfurled it as he made his way to the middle of the room, laying it out on the floor. Kurt dropped his bag down next to the bin and made his way towards Dave.

"Where do you want me?" Kurt asked, not realizing how that sounded until the words were actually out of his mouth. Dave chuckled and patted the mat next to him.

"Right here's fine."

Kurt sunk down onto the mat onto his knees. He folded his hands neatly in his lap with his feet tucked underneath him. For some reason, Dave bit his lip, closing his eyes while shaking his head. It looked like he was trying not to laugh and Kurt couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.

"Okay," Dave adjusted himself so that one of his knees was on the mat. He propped his elbow on his other knee and maneuvered to reach out to Kurt, who was slightly confused as to what was happening, but he allowed Dave to carefully manipulate his body. Dave pulled Kurt's hands out of his lap and Kurt allowed him to pull him forward slightly so that he was sitting up on his knees.

"We're going to start off easy with an all four quad stretch, alright?" Kurt nodded. "We want to get your muscles nice and warmed up. If you'd just get down on your hands and knees." Doing as he was told, Kurt stared down at the mat as he listen to the deep rumble of Dave's voice. "You want to take this leg," Kurt felt Dave squeeze his left ankle which resulted in the inadvertent flip-flop of his stomach. "And lift it up off of the floor and hold it with your hand on the same side." Dave moved away to give Kurt more room. "Go ahead."

Kurt lifted his leg back, into the air, as Dave had said. He remembered this as a stretch he used would do, often times before his show choir dance rehearsals. He'd always been pretty good at balancing, and being naturally flexible, so it wasn't a difficult feat to lift his hand off the ground and catch his ankle.

"Good," Dave said approvingly. "You're not going to fall over, are you?" he asked good-naturedly, just to make sure.

"No," Kurt shook his head, huffing out a laugh and rolling his eyes. "Not unless you insist on distracting me."

"Just hold that position for another ten seconds." Kurt did so easily, and when he set his leg back down, Dave told him to repeat the action with his other leg.

"Wait a second," Dave said as Kurt held his right leg with his right hand. He stood up and moved around him, dropping down on his other side. "You want to focus on your hips with this stretch. Make sure you're thrusting them down towards the floor..." If that didn't make Kurt almost fall over, the hands on his his back and his thigh, just above his knee, did. "You should really feel a stretch in your leg now." Kurt bit his lip, nodding.

This man was trying to kill him.

* * *

Dave had walked Kurt through a variety of stretches before they moved on to the more intermediate of exercises for his glutes, hamstrings, quads, and calves. After about twenty minutes of the floor and mat exercises - just as Kurt was beginning to feel the radiating heat and sting in his legs - they began the cardio to get his blood circulating. They went upstairs and got on the treadmills where they both worked up to a jog for thirty minutes. In the last ten minutes of Kurt's session, they went back down to the second floor to the room where they were at before. Now, Dave explained, he would have Kurt do some more stretching to help him avoid any injuries to his leg muscles, and Kurt was thankful for that. The last thing he needed was to not be able to get out of bed the next morning.

Kurt had collapsed onto the mat on his back. His hair, which was normally coiffed in an upward sweep and held in place with copious amounts of hairspray, stuck to his sweaty forehead and fell into his eyes, which he had closed. Unconsciously, he brought one of his legs up into the air. Dave hadn't given him any instructions yet, but it just felt good to stretch the muscle after his run. He pulled his leg down to his chest, hugging it to him.

With an even breath, he let his leg touch back down to the ground, and when he opened his eyes, he could see Dave standing over him. The bright, white incandescent lights blinded him momentarily, but after craning his neck slightly he was able to see Dave's face better. His lips were parted slightly, and his eyebrows were drawn together in concentration.

"That, um..." Dave's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. "That stretch is actually a good place to start." He knelt down in front Kurt at the end of the mat.

"You'll see a lot of baseball players, for example, doing that type of stretch on the field before, and after, a game." Kurt was confused by the rasp in Dave's voice. He had half a mind to ask him if he needed a drink of water, but he just continued on. "It actually works a lot better when you have someone to help you. Here... Lift up your leg again." Kurt blinked and did as Dave said, being careful not to kick the other man in the face. Dave met his movements halfway, placing his hand on the fabric of his pants covering his knee and the other arm wrapped around his shin, so that he could hold it steady across his shoulder.

"Is that okay?" Dave asked, as he pushed Kurt's leg towards him slightly. Kurt could feel the mild stretch of the muscles and ligaments in the back of his thigh, but he knew that he could stretch farther than that.

"You..." Kurt wiggled slightly, aligning his back more comfortably upon the soft, squishy mat. "You can push a bit more if you want. It doesn't hurt." Kurt moistened his lips. He could feel his cock twitch in interest as Dave scooted even closer towards his open legs.

_'God, this is so fucking embarrassing,'_ he thought to himself as Dave let go of his knee only to plant his hand on the side of his head. He willed himself not to look down at the situation going on in his pants, as that would only increase the chances of Dave following his line of sight.

"You're really flexible," Dave breathed out. Kurt wondered momentarily why he couldn't see Dave, but then realized that he must have closed his eyes. He thought if he closed his eyes and couldn't see Dave he could at least pretend he didn't exist and, by extension, the erection that he was sure would be apparent against the thin fabric of his burgundy pants would not exist either.

Kurt could hear Dave's heavy breathing. Or maybe it was his own - he wasn't sure. Dave's palm was clammy on his skin, and he could feel the length of his torso practically pressing against the back of his thigh, and quite suddenly, he could feel something equally hard as his own cock rut against him.


	3. Chapter Three

**Afterburn**

by ktfranceebee

_Chapter Three_

It took Kurt a moment to register what happened. He had been shockingly informed of Dave's state of affairs when he felt the seemingly deliberate sweep of his cock against his own, and if his own biochemistry hadn't been teetering so vicariously upon the precipice between barely suppressed horniness and completely blowing his load like a randy teenage boy during a round of "Seven Minutes in Heaven", he would, on any other occasion, be able to prevent the gasping half-moan from slipping past his parted lips.

He was thankful, however, that he was able to stop himself from thrusting wantonly into Dave and his obviously massive endowment.

Once Kurt managed to come to grips with what had occurred, he was already clapping a hand over his mouth in an effort to stifle the lewd sound, and Dave was already pulling away, his cheeks blotchy-red with embarrassment. He was oblivious to Kurt's reaction as he muttered barely legible incoherencies.

"Shit," Dave said, scrambling. He let go of Kurt's leg. His knee had been dangerously close to his ear when Dave was "stretching" it and it quickly lowered back down to the mat like a dead, floppy fish. "Kurt, I'm—I didn't… Oh my God, I…"

Kurt saw the confusion and regret in Dave's eyes as he sat up. He heard the palpable panic in his voice.

But _why_…?

It felt so damn _good. _Why did Dave have to pull away when they could feel good _together_—feel _amazing—_pressed against one another, exchanging their heat, and their touch, and the air from their lungs?

And despite the fact that Kurt had no way to communicate this—being far too tongue-tied and fearing that the only thing liable of coming out of his mouth being that of a whimper from the sudden loss of contact—his body seemed to be more than capable of disclosing what exactly it was that he craved. So, as if he was dying of thirst, and Dave, being the only one who could quench it, he slipped one leg around his waist resolutely and then the other, snaking down to the lowermost part of his thigh so that the heel of his shoe grazed his firm calf muscle—anything to keep him from moving farther away.

Kurt could see the rapid rise and fall of his own chest from his position, propped up on his elbows, as well as the look on Dave's face, and that was when something else had finally registered in Kurt's obviously lagging brain.

Maybe Dave _wanted_ to move away.

Kurt felt sick—like someone delivered a swift punch at his stomach—yet he made no attempt to move away. Dave was just… Staring at him… Wide-eyed and gaping like he had no earthly clue how Kurt's legs found themselves around his waist or why they were there in the first place. _'Because it was an accident,' _Kurt convinced himself in anguish_. 'That's what he was probably trying to say. That he just slipped and he was trying to apologize for slipping and grinding in to me and…'_

_'Oh God…' _Kurt felt the air escape his lungs. What was he _thinking? _He was Dave's client and… God, it was so obvious that Dave was straight and had no interest in Kurt.

Then… How could Dave explain his hard-on?

Or the fact that he had reached around his waist and was currently palming his thigh?

_'Oh…'_ Kurt had to gulp. _'His hand is so bi-' _He shook his head. _'No,' _he tried to tell himself. Dave was just going to move his leg away and then let him down easy since he obviously _wasn't_ a bad guy (hell, he could have pushed him away and be done with it).

Kurt just wished he'd get it over with already.

Dave never moved away, though. Aside from his thumb, which lazily stroked the impeding fabric covering his legs, Dave didn't move at all.

Kurt pressed his lips together as his eyebrows furrowed, staring at the wide range of emotions flickering across Dave's face. Dave's dark stare eventually broke away from Kurt's questioning gaze and his eyes slid down Kurt's body—open, laid-out, waiting—and he never felt more exposed while still fully clothed. Dave's eyes lingered momentarily on the outline of his dick, still heavy and feeling full and alight with interest, before turning his head to look at where his hand was resting on his knee.

Kurt - still frozen with uncertainty and with no place to go with Dave holding him - laid there. His hands twitched, positively _itched_, to just grab hold of Dave and touch him wherever he could... but Dave seemed to think of that as his job.

Dave let his hand inch down his thigh, kneading and caressing, until he reached Kurt's waist, where he seemed to hesitate slightly, his fingertips lightly skittering over the bunched up fabric of his shirt, before locking gazes with him.

Kurt had to bite back a gasp at the sight of completely blown pupils, save, of course, for the thin ring of copper iris surrounding the deep, black depths.

While Kurt was sure he looked like an absolute, disheveled wreck, it was nothing short of how Dave came across, who seemed to be in so much of a daze, nothing existed for him except for Kurt, considering the way that he was staring at him so lustfully.

Kurt felt a newfound wave of arousal wash over him, making his cock throb, and it didn't go unnoticed by Dave.

"Fuck," Dave breathed. His voice was raspy and clotted with desire, and it only gave him all the more reason to rub his leg up Dave's side until he wrapped it around his waist once more, only now his heel rested on the cleft of his ass. Dave gave him a look that told him he was either going to regret that decision, or make it so he didn't have to.

The noise that Kurt heard vibrate in the back of Dave's throat was nothing short of a growl as he slithered up his body, the one hand that was still on his side crept up his taut stomach, causing the fabric to ride up as his palm slid between his pecs. When Dave reached his clavicle, he lingered there momentarily. He paid the bone, which peeked out from under the collar—stretched from pulling at it while he was sweating as he ran on the treadmill earlier—extra special attention. He teased it like he had when he corrected his alignment while lifting weights. Dave's other hand planted itself on the mat next to Kurt's face, where it was before, and Kurt closed his eyes. He could hear Dave's ragged breath and feel its moisture teasing his parted lips.

Kurt tilted his head back, his mouth gaping and his fringe falling back on his head, as he felt Dave's massive hand wander up his neck. He sucked in a breath as Dave lightly stroked his pulse point with his thumb. Dave's hand continued to travel past Kurt's jaw until it raked through the hair at the back of his head, and Kurt lifted his head slightly to make room for it only for Dave to curl his fingers around a handful of the soft strands and gently tug his head back to its previous position.

Kurt gasped at the action before biting his lip in a groan at the feel of the tip of Dave's nose trailing over the long, lean length of his neck. He could feel the hot pant against his pulse point and he could physically begin to feel his heart thrum harder and faster against his sternum. He tried to move under Dave—to get any sort of friction—but he was too heavy... _Unyielding._

Dave had him pinned.


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N:** Some warnings for this chapter including potentially unsafe/risky oral sex, handjobs, frottage, teasing, and references to past, AU Klaine and Kurt/OC, and slight possessiveness.

* * *

**Afterburn**

by ktfranceebee

_Chapter Five_

Kurt felt as though all of his nerve endings were on fire.

He couldn't remember a time where he was this aroused. In fact, he couldn't recall anything that had ever happened in his life up until the moment he met Dave. It was as though his twenty-four _years_ of living came down to this moment in time and space. Just this two-by-six foam mat, him, and Dave.

"_David.._._"_ The name slipped out of Kurt's mouth so quietly, he was certain that he imagined it. He was inclined to believe that he was wrong about only _thinking_ Dave's name when he felt the gentle prod of Dave's hot, slick tongue upon his neck, slightly sticky with dried sweat, followed by the scrape of teeth as his tongue flattened upon his flesh as he roughly sucked.

"Oh—Oh, God." Kurt gasped as he turned his head away to give Dave more access to the delicate expanse of flesh. Dave gently nipped and licked his way up his pale neck until he reached his jaw, slightly rough with the most infinitesimal amount of facial hair since having shaved that morning, and gently bit the juncture just below his ear with a pleased, guttural groan before lathing it with his tongue.

Kurt could feel his entire body vibrating underneath Dave. His arms, which he didn't notice had wound themselves around Dave's neck, were trembling, and he could_ almost_ be thankful when Dave took his wrists and placed them over his head.

Dave and Kurt's noses were close enough to touch, and Kurt resisted the urge to lift his head off of the mat just a centimeter so their lips could meet. He could be patient. He never delved into heavy stuff like BDSM with his former boyfriends, but the way Dave seemed to take control, strangely similar to how he worked with him as his personal trainer, made Kurt shiver. He had no qualms about waiting in anticipation to see what Dave had in store for him. If he could survive three training sessions with Dave, daydreaming of so many sexual rendezvous they could have in various places throughout the gym late at night with just the two of them and no one to stop them… the thought of Dave just pushing him onto the weight bench and taking him right there... Kurt quivered delightedly. He didn't think anything could be as good as the prospect of Dave fucking him, but obviously _that _Kurt had yet to get Dave to stretch his leg practically behind his head. If he had any reason to be thankful for his impressive flexibility, it was the fact that he was about to get fucked into a yoga mat.

He supposed he could wait a couple of minutes longer.

Dave's hands cupped Kurt's fingers in his own, coaxing his arms to stay in that position by having him grip the foam mat that ended just above the top of his head. Dave let his hands travel leisurely down the lengths of his sinewy arms until he reached his ribs. Dave watched Kurt with rapt interest - the way he keened, wiggling and squirming, in an attempt to thrust his hips into him.

Dave narrowed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, a hint of a satisfied smirk playing about his lips. He squeezed Kurt's external obliques in a way that could have been reassuring as he then reached around to untangle the legs wrapped around his waist.

Dave yanked off Kurt's heavy workout shoes and they fell to the wooden floor with two dull_ thunks_. After Dave pulled off Kurt's socks, he propped his legs up so that his bare feet were flat on the mat. As he reached between the gap in his leg to push his shirt up past his belly button to reveal the trail of fine brown hair that disappeared beneath the tie-waist of his yoga pants, which were riding dangerously low upon his narrow hips, Kurt groaned.

Dave wasted no time dipping down between Kurt's legs and running his warm mouth over the trail of hair, panting and inhaling his heady, musky scent—ripe from their hour of exercise. As Kurt was so focused on watching Dave mouth the flesh surrounding his navel, he did not see Dave's hand slip between his legs and palm his erection through the thin cotton of his pants.

Kurt practically wailed, his head rolling back on the mat and his eyes, toward the back of his head. As he bucked against Dave's hand he thought he heard a deep chuckle. He gasped as he felt Dave rhythmically roll and squeeze his balls before stroking his length as he used his other hand to push his shirt up all the way to his chest revealing his pale pink nipples, that nearly matched the rosy blotches upon his otherwise unblemished chest.

Kurt looked down in time to see Dave take one of the stiff, tiny buds into his mouth and flick his tongue against it dutifully. He tugged on it lightly between his teeth, staring up at Kurt through his dark eyelashes, and Kurt couldn't help lowering one of his hands and threaded his fingers through the short hair at the crown of Dave's head. Dave released the abused, reddened flesh from his mouth, his lips damp with saliva as he reached for the hem of Kurt's shirt and tugged it over his head, much to his relief. Kurt sat up, reaching for Dave as he threw the article of clothing across the empty room. Kurt made quick work of Dave's clothing, pulling off the cut-up, red, UIC sweater, along with his undershirt and discarding them as well.

Kurt couldn't tear his eyes away from Dave's form as he kneeled, almost reverently on the mat before him. He wasn't nearly as muscled as he thought he would be underneath all of his clothes. He was sturdy and strong and solid and Kurt would bet that he would have no problem picking him up and fucking him with his back against the wall if he very well wanted to. His chest and shoulders were wide and broad and the pure girth of his arms made his mouth water. Dave was hairier than he was—hell, hairier than both of his previous boyfriends put together—and he should have known from porn alone that Dave was definitely his type. Sure, Blaine and Ethan had been attractive and great in a number of ways—at least up until the end of their relationships—but Kurt would be lying if he said he didn't have a bit of a size kink. He felt like slapping himself for not attempting to scout out any bears on any of his weekend excursions.

He and Dave both seemed to snap out of their respective stupors at the same time. They were both too busy soaking in each other's wrecked appearance. Their eyes slid back up toward the other's face before reaching out for one another—Kurt, throwing his arms around Dave's neck and Dave, gathering Kurt up in his arms as he pressed a searing kiss against Kurt's plump lips.

Kurt inhaled sharply. The only way he could describe the kiss was like being struck by lightning. It seemed to originate from the top of his head, like he was delivered a shock of complete realization to his brain, and as that white, electrifying heat spread throughout his body, it burst out wherever it was that Dave was touching him… Because those spots… His lips, the points on his shoulder and lower back where Dave's fingertips and palms pressed urgently into him, and his chest, flush against Dave's, all felt as though they were on fire. The only difference from it being akin to lightning was the theory that lightning never struck in the same place twice, but this, Kurt hoped—and _knew_—would happen on more than one occasion.

He would make certain of that.

"Fucking _Christ_." Dave drew out as he came up for air, and quite literally, too, as Kurt was surprised to find that while they were making out, Dave laid him down on the floor once more. Kurt cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down, chasing his mouth with another kiss. He teased Dave's bottom lip, and the other groaned, much to Kurt's pleasure. Dave responded by undulating against him, and he squeaked against Dave's mouth as their cocks ground together.

"Yes…" Kurt hissed, closing his eyes and burying his head in the crook of Dave's neck. He slid his hands over Dave's shoulder's feeling the muscles tensing under his skin from holding himself up. "Oh, fuck! _Please."_

Kurt wasn't exactly sure what he was pleading for. It could have been a number of things. Dave, however, seemed to have no trouble making it up as they went along. He mouthed his way down Kurt's chest until he back at the waistband of his pants once more. Dave rubbed his nose along the contour of Kurt's cock, which pressed uncomfortably against the confines of his briefs. Dave mouthed over the shape, his hot breath seeping through the fabric as he pulled on the strings at his waist, tied in a bow, like he was unwrapping a present on Christmas day, and slipped his fingers under the waistband and pulled his pants down past his ass.

When his cock was finally free, slapping his belly lewdly, he had to resist the urge to stroke himself to alleviate some of the tightly coiled heat that had built up since Dave helped him stretch his leg on the mat. Dave seemed to be done toying with him as he didn't hesistate in gripping Kurt's cock at the base and pumping his shaft a couple of times, sweeping his palm over the rosy tip to smear around the what precome that hadn't completely soaked into the fabric of his briefs, before taking him into his mouth.

"Ohh, fuck yes," Kurt gritted through his teeth as his head fell back at the feeling of Dave sucking his dick urgently into the slick heat of his mouth. Dave expertly impaled Kurt's cock past his lips, tight, and his tongue teased the underside. Dave slipped his hand off of the base and smoothed it over his neatly trimmed pubic hair and over his belly so that Kurt didn't have anything hindering him from raising his hips off of the mat and measuredly fucking Dave's face.

After a few minutes of Dave blowing Kurt and fondling his balls, Kurt could begin to feel his breathing become erratic and he jerked his hips a bit too roughly, causing Dave to gag and cough. He pulled himself off of Kurt's dick, catching his breath. His lips were wet with saliva and he unabashedly wiped them off with the back of his hand.

"My bag… Where…?" Dave questioned. His voice was thick and raspy.

"Next to mine, by the door." Kurt answered his question before he could even finish it. Much to Kurt's disappointment, Dave stood rather precariously as he made his way to the other side of the room. Kurt laid his head back on the mat and licked his lips as he admired Dave's gorgeous back and all of its clean lines and angles built for a Bernini sculpture. Dave squatted down in front of his bag, facing away from Kurt. Kurt heard the sound of the zipper as Dave opened his bag followed by the sound of Dave ruffling through its contents.

"Fuck," he heard Dave mutter impatiently.

"Please tell me you have a condom," Kurt asked far too evenly for someone who was just on the receiving end of a blowjob.

"Well, I was more concerned about the lube, actually, if you even want to beginning thinking about getting to point B." He paused. "Point B being me fucking you into that mat." With a sigh he added, "And believe it or not, I don't make a habit out of screwing my clients."

Kurt wasn't sure why that notion filled him with contentment—like he was special or something.

"I have KY in my bag." Dave turned his head slightly, but not quite enough to see the red staining his cheeks. "I'm not positive about the condom, but I might have one in my wallet. It's in the side pocket."

Kurt heard Dave slide the other duffle bag towards him. After a moment, Kurt opened his eyes and saw Dave standing over him with a bottle of KY in one hand and a condom packet in the other. Dave was looking at the bottle with a bemused expression.

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows incredulously. "You keep lube in your duffle bag?"

Kurt blushed. "There are plenty of alternative uses for KY, like… Fixing a stuck zipper or… Removing sticky price tags off of store-bought items." Kurt finished lamely.

Dave chortled, shaking his head as he kicked off a shoe.

"Really?" He said again, only this time with curiousity. "So, you would be telling the truth," he kicked off the other shoe, "if you said you hadn't been contemplating the idea of us fucking?"

Kurt sucked in a breath and Dave's smarmy, self-assured smile told Kurt that Dave didn't even need to hear a verbal response.

"No?" Kurt lied. His answer came out as a question. Dave stood on one foot as he pulled off one of his socks, holding the lube and condom in one hand.

"Yeah," Dave scoffed, looking down at the bottle. "Because KY _Warming_ Liquid works so much better on stuck zippers."

"Shut up," Kurt groaned, and for the first time that night, it wasn't in due to the fact that he desperately wanted to come. Well, he _did, _but he had to cover his face with his hands in embarrassment at Dave's cockiness. Dave laughed conciliatorily as he pulled off his other sock and padded over toward Kurt. Kurt could feel his looming presence, kneeling in front of him once more, as his hand assumed its previous position on his cock.

"Instead of playing cute..." Kurt looked up to see Dave rubbing himself through his shorts in tandem with the movements of his opposite hand, "how 'bout you tell me of all the times you thought about me fucking you, instead?"

* * *

**_As a side note: The initials _****UIC****_, on Dave's sweater, stands for the University of Illinois at Chicago. More on that later._**


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Glee, its characters, nor am I making any money off of this piece of material.

**A/N: **Sorry about the delay. Between finals, having to go to the hospital in acute pain only to discover I needed an emergency appendectomy before the stupid thing burst (FUN!), and recovering from that painful ordeal, we are back on schedule. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and hopefully it was worth the wait (wink wink).

* * *

**Afterburn**

by ktfranceebee

Part V

_"Instead of playing cute, how 'bout you tell me of all the times you thought about me fucking you, instead?"_

Kurt moaned throatily.

"I… I…" Kurt liked to think he was a master of multi-tasking. While he could see the scenarios (and there were plenty) playing themselves out in his mind's eye—invented situations that, at one point, he could only hope to be the fodder material for when he lay in bed at night, unable to fall asleep—he found forming a complete, coherent sentence difficult with these thoughts in mind, especially when coupled with Dave's softly uttered words and firmer grip. It took no time at all for his cock, which began to soften while Dave searched for a condom and lube, to resume to its previously rigid state.

"You didn't?" Dave asked haughtily, and though his eyes were closed and his was thrown back, Kurt could imagine Dave raising one of his eyebrows questioningly.

Kurt shook his head in response as he felt the pad of Dave's thumb slowly circle his glans. He bit his lip to keep the sob, tearing in his throat, from slipping past his lips as Dave continued his prolonged, pleasurable torture.

"That's a shame," Dave tutted. "Considering how many times I thought about fucking you on the front desk." Kurt shivered involuntarily as his toes curled into the mat on their own accord.

"Thought about it the first day I saw you." Kurt lifted his head, chest rising and falling rapidly as he attempted to catch his breath, only to be greeted with the sight of Dave pulling his pants down his legs in one fluid motion-like those skilled individuals who could rip a tablecloth out from under numerous glasses and plates without so much as ruining the setting.

Saliva filled Kurt's mouth at the sight of Dave's thick cock, jutting straight out, and he had to swallow. Kurt managed to tear his eyes away at the darkening head to catch the hard, purposeful gleam in Dave's eyes as Kurt pushed down his briefs and kicked them away, helping Dave with the process. Dave practically threw the pants behind him before sheltering Kurt's body with his, his cock abrading against his own in the process.

Kurt opened his mouth to let out a groan as Dave expertly rolled his hips against his pelvis. The sound, however, somehow caught in his throat as Dave went to burrow his nose almost affectionately in the curve of his neck.

"Tell me you didn't think about it, too." Dave's voice was gruff in his ear, but his breath was hot and moist against his already clammy skin. Kurt watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Dave wedged his arm between their bodies, gripping both of their lengths in a loose grip. Kurt raised his hips shallowly so he could leisurely fuck his fist, anything to get his throbbing cock a little more friction. "Didn't care if anyone was around... Should have taken you right there. Bet you'd love them watching me pound into your ass."

Kurt let out a whine as Dave pulled away, picking up the bottle of lube, leaving him just a little more spent with desperation as a result of Dave's teasing.

Kurt ran his hand through his hair, exhaustedly. Dave was good... _Really_ good. There was something unsurprising about how good Dave was in bed—er, _floor?_—as he was as a trainer. He hadn't even come yet and he could already feel a tremble in his limbs.

Finally, having managed to finally find his ability to communicate thoughtfully, he spoke up.

"The weight bench." Well… Maybe he wasn't ready to be_ completely_ eloquent. Kurt let his head fall back on the mat as he carefully considered Dave's ability to leave him speechless and stuttering.

He peeked at Dave who had paused momentarily—the most infinitesimal disruption of movements—to register what Kurt had said. He looked up briefly, his eyes flickering in their sockets slightly as if maybe he managed to convince himself, when his question went unanswered, that maybe Kurt hadn't thought about him that way before their present circumstances. That moment of doubt was gone as soon as Kurt let his eyes drift shut just before catching Dave dribbling some of the clear liquid onto his fingers.

"Thought about you f-fucking me on the weight bench," Kurt continued, and he could feel the heat pooling in his cheeks. He couldn't help but hate the way Dave made him feel. Like some sort of inexperienced school boy; shockingly innocent for someone who had multiple partners; and above all else, taken care of.

Dave had been doing an extraordinarily good job at making sure Kurt was pleasured above all else, but more so than that, he seemed to be enjoying it. Watching Kurt fall apart under his hands... Under his _gaze_. It was a far cry from any of his previous sexual encounters and relationships, where his partners seemed more concerned at what Kurt could do… _Provide_… Always so intent on being the first to get off.

At Dave's silence, Kurt opened his eyes once more. He couldn't help but drag his fingers lazily up and down his stomach and chest as he watched Dave, remembering the way he felt when he could only _imagine _how it would feel to have Dave's large hands caressing him as he was stretched out on that plank, his legs spread as Dave palmed his erection through the thin material of his pants. Those were all just naïve fantasies—dull and completely eclipsed, now, by the_ real_ thing.

Kurt watched as a small, self-satisfied smirk transformed Dave's face, bringing it a brightness that could not even be achieved by the thousand-something kilowatt lights suspended from the ceiling. He was sad to see, however, that it lasted only a few seconds before it was gone, replaced with the former steely, lusty gaze that was fixed there before.

"Hmm…" Dave intoned interestedly. He slid the hand that wasn't covered in lube down Kurt's leg until it was gripping Kurt's ankle. He coaxed it back up until it was resting on his broad shoulder, not too unlike how it was positioned when he first began stretching.

"Well, I'm sure we can make room for that in your next session." And as Dave's bottom lip disappeared between his teeth in concentration, Kurt could feel two slick fingers slipping between his ass cheeks and he let out a guttural moan. The pads of Dave's fingers pressed insistently down against his hole, but his positioning was all wrong and hindering Dave's ministrations, so Kurt lifted his other leg up as well, and with his hands under both of his knees, pulled them back towards his ribs.

"God, you're so fucking hot, spreading yourself open for me," Dave practically growled. His hand was just below—well, above—Kurt's ass, rubbing his thigh. "So fucking flexible… Shit."

"I guess show choir will do that to—ugh… Oh…" Kurt choked as he felt Dave's fingers sink into the tight ring of muscle. Dave chuckled deeply, and whether it was to his response or his reaction, Kurt wasn't sure.

Kurt forced himself to breathe evenly despite the burn and let one of his hands slip away from where he was holding his leg in order to stroke himself. He cupped his balls and rolled them in his hand as he watched Dave, whose eyes were downcast as he watched his fingers plunge in and out of his ass. He began to feel the noticeable warmth from the lube starting to take its effect, which made the third finger Dave decided to add all the more enjoyable.

Just as Kurt was starting to get lost in the rhythm of Dave's fingers twisting, turning, and brushing his inner walls, Dave slipped his fingers out and Kurt whined at the loss—the overwhelming emptiness that he yearned to be replaced, and, preferably, by something hotter... fatter than Dave's measly fingers.

"That alright?" Dave asked, strangely sweet, as Kurt put his legs down to rest. Somehow the condom ended up further towards the end of the mat and he maneuvered around on the spot to retrieve it. He tore it open with his teeth as he stroked himself with his other hand, and Kurt rolled over on the mat so that he was on his belly, before pushing himself up on his hands and knees. He rolled his shoulders down, and arched his back in a way that he knew would make his pert ass look inviting, and then he turned his chin towards his shoulder to lock eyes with Dave.

"Put your dick in me and we'll find out." Kurt bit his bottom lip coyly, and when Dave blanched, he knew he shouldn't have tried playing the "sexy" card. To his previous boyfriends he was "adorable" at best. Maybe "hot" when he was naked or wearing his knee-high boots. But never sexy. Now he would just have to wait for Dave to laugh at him.

The laughter didn't come. Instead, the resolute expression returned to his face as he fumbled with getting the rubber out with slick fingers. He cursed as he carefully rolled the condom on over his dick, like he couldn't get it on quick enough. After moving behind Kurt, he picked up the lube once more and dribbled some, this time, directly in the cleft of Kurt's ass cheeks.

Kurt moaned as he felt the gush of liquid trickle down his crack. Kurt felt both of Dave's hands spreading him, as if examining his work to ensure that he did an adequate enough job. As Kurt was beginning to feel the warm liquid trail down his perineum, he closed his eyes with a gasp at he felt the soft slap of Dave sliding his shaft between his cheeks to collect the liquid. He listened to Dave's soft, breathy grunts as he made sure he was lubricated enough, even running his hands over some of the excess lube and wiping it on his cock and then Kurt felt the bulging head nudging his hole before pressing in slowly… smoothly… completely.

"Yes…" Dave hissed. He didn't stop until he was up to the hilt, his pelvis pressed against Kurt's ass as he massaged the the yielding flesh with his hands. "Oh, _shit_."

Kurt bowed his head as he dug his nails into the mat, whimpering as Dave made no attempt to move _just_ yet, save for running his hands down his sides and the dip in his back, as he adjusted to the fullness. As he ran his hands up his narrow shoulders, Kurt sighed. He felt Dave's warm, moist lips dragging between the juncture between his shoulder blades, draping his body over his own. Slowly though, Kurt leaned forward and he felt Dave's dick drag out of him. He repeated his actions, letting out little _'Ah'_s as he shallowly impaled himself on Dave. Dave groaned contently as he pulled away from Kurt as he continued to languidly gyrate his pelvis up and down. Dave watched his movements - the way he lost himself to the feeling of being completely taken_, _and he unconsciously trailed one hand up his one chest and slipped his finger into his mouth and gently bit down on the tip.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," Dave murmured as he met Kurt's thrusts with his own. Kurt gasped continuously at the slap of skin against skin as Dave sped up his thrusts, and he was forced to plant his hand back down on the mat to steady himself.

"Unngh," Kurt whined as Dave snaked a hand around his waist. He tugged on his dick as his other hand, still on his shoulder, pulled Kurt sharply onto his cock, eliciting breathy, open-mouth moans from his pouty lips.

"Your ass is so fucking perfect. Like it was made to take my cock."

"Fuck…" Kurt cried in ecstasy as Dave wrapped his meaty arm around his chest, pulling him flush against his body as he rammed into him. As Dave trailed one hand down Kurt's belly to resume its position wrapped around his cock, the other slid up to his throat to pull him into a heated kiss. Dave's tongue hot and urgent and slick as he slipped it into Kurt's mouth, and Kurt responded with equal fervor. Kurt reached behind Dave, grabbing his ass to deepen his thrusts.

"Gonna—oh, God… I'm gonna come," Kurt cried when he pulled away. His lips were wet with saliva, and Dave's breath was hot on his cheek as he kept him pressed against his body. Kurt threw his head back upon his shoulder, not that it could go anywhere else with the way Dave's hand was cradling his jaw. Before closing his eyes as Dave's hand flew quickly over his cock, jerking him off, he caught a glimpse of Dave focused on the complete rapture on Kurt's face. Kurt brought his arm up to circle around Dave's neck as he felt his cock pulse, twitching as his cum spilled out over Dave's knuckles.

"Fuck, yeah. Come for me, Kurt. Come on," Dave growled as Kurt scrunched his face up as he stroked him until he had nothing more to give.

"Look so good when you come… God, you're gorgeous," Dave whispered against the roughness of his cheek.

Kurt, breathing heavily and sated, felt himself going limp in Dave's arms. Dave laid him down carefully and Kurt pressed his cheek against the mat, his ass still in the air. He realized Dave hadn't come yet as he slipped out of his sensitive, and, judging by the size of his cock, gaping hole.

"What are you…" Kurt probed in confused voice, turning his to see Dave stroking himself, rubbing the bulbous head of his cock against Kurt's ass cheek. If he wasn't completely spent, the sight of Dave's loosely tugging his balls with one hand and slapping his junk against the crevice of his ass cheeks would have been enough to get him hard again.

"Oh, fuck. Come on me," Kurt ordered tiredly, yet unquestionably. "Do it. Please." Dave only responded by pulling the condom off, the rubber snapping against his hand and he discarded it next to him before quickly smacking his cock against Kurt's ass, the tip like velvet against his soft skin.

"Mmm, fuck…" Dave dragged out. His eyes shut seemingly on their own accord as he gaped, his warm come spurting onto Kurt's skin. "Oh, God, yes…"

Kurt moaned airily as Dave dragged his still hard length through the come, rubbing it into his skin.

"Jesus," Dave huffed without an ounce of humor as he caressed the ass cheek the wasn't smeared with his own mess affectionately.

"You, um…" Dave started as stroked himself one last time to get any remaining come off of him before wiping his hand on his belly. He tucked himself back into his briefs and righted his shorts, neither of which, Kurt realized regrettably, made it off all of the way. "You alright to stand? It's getting late. Probably should get out of here."

Kurt's eyes were still closed from where he laid on the mat, but he had laid himself down tiredly, his head temple resting on his forearms.

"Could you get me my towel. Please," he asked softly, allowing himself to open one eye to let some of the bright light in.

"I've got mine right here," Dave offered as he stood up, walking towards his bag. Kurt couldn't help but take note, in a strange afterthought, how he had really nice feet.

When Dave returned to Kurt with his towel in hand, Kurt made to reach out for it, but, instead, Dave squatted down next to him, running the towel over his backside to wipe up the come and lube.

"Here," Dave said, and Kurt saw that he was holding his hand out to him. Kurt took his hand and let himself be tugged up, Once he was up, he used Dave, who was still squatting, to keep himself from falling over on his unsteady legs by grabbing his shoulder as he mopped up his come off of the mat. Kurt picked up his boxers and slipped them on as he watched Dave roll the mat up.

"You should probably just take this home with you," Dave proposed. Kurt snorted.

"Thanks?" Kurt offered awkwardly before they both fell into an uncomfortable silence as they got dressed. Once they were completely clothed, Kurt having slipped into his clean pair of boxers and pulling on a new shirt, but slipping back into his same yoga pants. Dave pulled on his same shirt, but foregoing the sleeveless hoodie for a black and white Adidas track jacket.

"Got everything?" Dave asked him once he finished tying his shoes. Kurt straightened up, looking at him questioningly. His voice was dull—sad, almost, but he held Kurt's "new" rolled up yoga mat, which stuck out of his own duffle bag.

"Yeah," Kurt said lightly, picking up his own bag and following Dave out the door.

They descended the stairwell in permeating silence aside from the scuff of their workout shoes, and when they made it to the first floor, Kurt found himself staring at the front desk, blushing as they passed it. Kurt waited quietly and patiently as Dave powered down the lights to the entire building with the master controller after turning on the security system with a with a few digits to the illuminated keypad. Once they were outside, and everything was locked up, Kurt spoke up.

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, attempting to sound casual as he crossed his arms against the biting air. Dave furrowed his eyebrows.

"How are you getting home?"

"I…" Kurt pursed his lips. "I'm gonna walk. I just live a couple blocks down." He jabbed his thumb in the direction over his shoulder. Dave scoffed incredulously.

"Did you always walk home by yourself?" Kurt nodded tentatively. He would always leave the gym before Dave closed up. "You should have said something before. You shouldn't walk home by yourself in the middle of the night. What if something happens? Come on," Dave said as they set out in the direction of Kurt's apartment down the sidewalk. As Kurt walked just a few inches away from Dave (and their hands would have been close enough to brush against each other had he not have them crossed in front of them), he tried not to make the chattering of his teeth obvious.

Dave turned to look at Kurt questioningly as Kurt rubbed one of his arms. He really should have brought a jacket with him.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his eyes widening a fraction in what could only be interpreted as concern. Kurt shook his head stubbornly. Dave rolled his eyes as the clicking of Kurt's teeth became a dead giveaway.

"Here," he said. He stopped walking and set his bag down on the ground as he slipped his jacket off. Kurt gazed at the soft expression on Dave's face as he lifted the strap off of his shoulder and set it on the ground as well.

"It's gotta be nearly 50 degrees out here," Dave said, helping Kurt slip his arms through the jacket. Kurt pushed the long sleeves up so they were bunched up around his wrists.

"Thank you," Kurt said softly, before picking up his bag again. Dave nodded wordlessly as he picked up his own and they continued walking. It wasn't the warmest material, but it was nice and toasty from Dave's body heat alone, and smelled like him too. And not the raw, sweat-slicked version of Dave who made him cry out as he pumped in and out of him, but the clean, freshly-showered Dave that Kurt was able to get a whiff of every time he would drop his hand along his hip to steady him as he did his lunges, or just as a praise as he flashed Kurt with a white smile at the end of his work out.

And it scared Kurt how much he liked both of these Dave's.

A couple of years had passed since Kurt's last serious relationship. He liked being single and available and unattached for a reason. It was easier. It was fun. And it_ never_ ended in heartbreak.

Kurt was already questioning his judgement in having sex with Dave as soon as the adrenaline had worn off and Dave had gotten _himself_ off. Dave might have initiated it (because it was obvious to Kurt, now, that the man hadn't just _slipped_), but Dave presented Kurt with the avenue to end it—the ability to push it away and for them to never talk about what happened ever again. He went along with it though and now he knew that he was screwed.

Kurt knew that he was attracted to Dave's personality long before the physical side of things. He knew better than anyone, though, that all of his screwed up relationships started with some smooth talking and dashing smiles, and then they find out that _that_ method works on all sorts of unsuspecting, naïve individuals and they quickly move on. Had Dave been someone he merely hooked up with at the bar, or a one time customer at his _own_ job… Maybe sex wouldn't have been a bad idea, but the fact that he was_ paying _Dave, and he was meant to_ see_ Dave on a regular basis… Hooking up with Dave spelled trouble from the beginning.

Kurt managed to pull himself out of his worrisome thoughts long enough to see that they were just walking up to his apartment building.

"Oh, this is it. Right here," Kurt said softly. He turned to Dave, attempting to smile, but falling flat. Kurt could see the questioning in Dave's eyes and he knew that Dave picked up that something was wrong. He hated doing this to him. Especially after the amazing sex they just had.

"Listen… I…" Kurt licked his lips. "I really had a lot of fun tonight, and really appreciate how nice it was of you to walk me home, but… I'm really _not_ looking for a relationship right now, and I think it might be best if we don't let what happened tonight… Happen again." Kurt ended lamely. He could see the furrow in Dave's brow intensify as he spoke, and he took a tentative step back, pulling the collar of the jacket closer around his neck as he felt a chill, more so from Dave than the actual temperature.

"You _appreciate_ it?" Dave scoffed. "What makes you think I wanted to be in a relationship with you anyway?" Dave questioned icily.

"I…" Kurt gaped like a dead fish, staring at the hard lines in Dave's face, so very different from the look he first gave him when they met for the first time earlier that week. Four days… A lot could change in four days, couldn't it?

"Well, you walked me home, you… We just had_ sex_." Kurt finished weakly.

"Um… Yeah. And apparently_ you_ wanted to get off just as much as I did. So what's the problem?" Dave shrugged his shoulders as he stuck his hands in his pockets, his face emotionless.

Kurt could only stare disbelievingly.

"Nothing." Kurt could feel a prickling in the corner of his eyes. He swallowed thickly. "Absolutely nothing, Dave. Thank you _so_ much for the wonderful night." Kurt's voice wavered as he spoke, and then he turned on his heel, making his way up the steps.

"Why are you getting mad at me? You just said you didn't…"

"Good night, Dave." Kurt wrenched the door open. He felt so stupid, especially for going against all of his preconceived notions about Dave. He was right, before. Of course someone like Dave wouldn't want to be with someone like him. He was damaged goods, and even someone blind would have noticed.

"Kurt, wa—" Kurt squeezed his eyes shut as Dave's voice was cut off from the slamming of the door behind him. Kurt had half a mind to lean heavily against the door... To just break down as he had so many times before... He remembered, however, that it was made of glass and composed himself, making his way through the _Chicagoan's_ lobby until he was standing in front of the elevators, frantically pressing the up button, desperately not wanting to look to see if Dave was still outside the door watching him, but also not wanting to find out if he was as expendable as he believed himself to be... So even before the elevator doors opened all of the way, Kurt slipped inside, not wanting to discover whether Dave would want to get away from him as fast as he could.

* * *

**_Don't worry! I'll fix it! I promise._**

**_Besides... Kurt still has his jacket, and Dave, his yoga mat. ;)_**

**_We'll also learn more about Kurt and Dave's "backgrounds", which should sound a bit familiar._**

**_Please Review!_**


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, but Lord knows if I did, I would _so _make this happen.

**A/N:** I want to give a super special shout out to the wonderful **spookybibi**! Happy birthday, girly, and thank you for being such a kind and awesome friend as well as one of my biggest cheerleaders. :D

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**Afterburn**

by ktfranceebee

_Part VI_

Kurt didn't go to his next appointment. In fact, it wasn't until early Sunday morning, just as the sun was beginning to peek through the tall Chicago office and brownstone buildings, that he found himself tying the clean, white laces to his sneakers having already donned his workout clothes, eaten a banana, and sipped on his steamy, morning coffee. He cursed his circadian rhythm as well as his unsettled mind for not allowing himself to stay asleep in the warm confines of his cozy bed on what would be his last day off before having to go back to work.

Getting sleep the past two days had been a difficult task. He woke up countless times during the night, scrabbling out in the darkness around him to find himself covered in a film of sticky sweat coating his body in a transparent patina. He had to collect himself, to feel around his surroundings when he found himself unsure of where he was. After he felt the soft mattress under him, he was able to feel his heart rate return, somewhat, to normal.

He sat in complete darkness, the only noise he heard in the apartment coming from the uneven inhales of the air he sucked into his lungs.

Everything about his dream felt so _real_.

As his sleepy fog cleared, he could still see the montage of various clips replaying themselves upon the inside of his eyelids like a movie projector on a blank screen.

_The greedy, insistent hands clutching at a pair of bare legs and spreading them generously apart. _

_Torrid, earthy eyes gazing directly at him from below through dark eyelashes. _

It was when he remembered the fervid lips and the hot, gasping breath upon his neck coupled with the heady scent of sweaty, masculine bodies rutting against each other that he realized that he wasn't dreaming of a scenario that he might have seen in a porno, but was, rather, awakened by flashbacks of the night before. He recalled how he _actually_ had sex with his personal trainer, and then his head would fall back on his bed in frustration as he became shamefully aware of the erection tenting his briefs.

He would spend the next few hours tossing and turning until he finally relinquished every ounce of his self-control as he pushed away at the comforter.

The cold night air that managed to permeate the large windows on either side of his headboard nipped at his naked torso and he let his hands scuttle down his abdomen and slide down to the waistband of his boxers, pushing them away, as well, to wrap his hand around the stiff column of flesh. He closed his eyes, bucking slightly into his grip, allowing himself transportation back to the too bright room at the gym. He stroked himself as his other hand lightly grazed over his abdominal muscles that were becoming increasingly more pronounced with each session at the gym. He imagined his hand as a hot, cavernous mouth so unlike his own cool, clammy hand wrapped firmly around his shaft. Instead of his thumb sweeping over the slippery tip, he thought of it as the slick, eager tongue massaging the spongy head. His mouth filled with a deluge of saliva as he thought the dark eyelashes fluttering around a pair of eyes once more as the same person bobbed up and down on his hard, throbbing cock.

Kurt keened, the gasp catching in his throat as he rolled his head back on the squishy pillow. His toes curled as he felt the oncoming dribble of come on his lower belly, the rest smearing on the palm of his hand as he milked himself of all that he had, fantasizing of something that had yet to (would _not_, he corrected himself) happen. The eyelashes would flutter shut in delight as the man would swallow the oncoming spurt of milky fluid down his throat, tonguing the tip to savor every last drop.

When he woke up the next morning after finally falling asleep, it was to realize that his mind was as miserable as his body, having not received the rush of blood and endorphins to his head that he was quickly growing accustomed to. His body was sluggish and slow as he got up and stretched, groaning like a man older than his twenty-four years and then dragged himself about the apartment in a zombie-like state as he got ready.

He knew avoiding the gym was as silly as it was impossible (or rather the certain employee that worked there), but Kurt knew his and said employee's paths were bound to cross eventually, especially when his primary mode of transportation was by foot in that small section of the city.

Once he dressed and found himself partly revitalized thanks to the caffeine in his coffee, he went into his walk-in closer to get his duffel bag to hold his extra set of clothes. The first thing he saw when he flicked on the lights, and before he could even reach up to grab the bag stored neatly on he top shelf, was the black and white striped sleeve sticking out between the folds of clothes dangling from the coat hangers.

Kurt swallowed thickly as he took another step into the closet and reached out, running his fingertips over the fabric. The threading of the material was as rough as it was silky and shiny. He recalled how warm he felt, externally as well as internally, as Dave slipped it over his arms, shielding him from the cold and bathing him in his own body heat. Kurt pinched the sleeve, rubbing it thoughtfully between two fingers. He had half mind to take it with him - to stuff it in his bag in the off-chance that Dave was working so he could return it to its rightful owner so he would never have to see it again. Whether the reason for doubting that he would be at the gym today had more to do with the fact that he wasn't quite ready to face Dave, or the fact that Dave not being there meant that he would have another chance to see him to return the jacket, he couldn't decide... He didn't want to decide, especially when his head and heart were liable to make him choose between two very reasonable, yet very different, answers. While he knew in his head that facing Dave after two days since the incident would not bode well for either of them, his heart, as well as other anatomical features, told him otherwise. So, with one last look at the jacket he grabbed the duffel bag and turned the light off behind him to finish getting ready.

* * *

Kurt really wasn't counting on the fact that he would see Dave at the gym that morning, but then again, statistics and probability were never his strong subjects in school. Even before he opened the door, he could see the man through the glass, his head bowed as he shuffled through some papers. Kurt took a deep breath as he gripped the strap of his bag a little tighter as he pulled it reassuringly towards his body. As he pushed open the door, Dave looked up briefly, his eyes flickering from the surface of the desk to front entrance where he was standing, like this was something he had done quite often - like he was _waiting_ for someone. He seemed used to being disappointment because his gaze instinctively returned to the desk before snapping up once more, quickly and like a deer in headlights. Kurt could see him better now without the sheen of the sun upon the glass door.

And even from where he standing almost fifteen feet away, Kurt hated what he saw.

Dave looked about as tired and miserable as Kurt felt, as if, _maybe_, their combined total hours of sleep that week only added up to the hours that he and Dave spent together so far. His eyes were dark and he had a hint of stubble that Kurt had never seen on him before. Kurt had to resolutely push away the heat coiling in the pit of his stomach as Dave's eyes, rather dull just a moment ago were now watching him with intently and with morbid curiosity.

Kurt's gaze didn't waver despite the fire and intensity of Dave's, but he could feel his skin prickle and his hair stand on end with what could only be a renewed excitement from seeing the man again. As he started to walk towards the stair well, however, he turned his attention to the spotless tiles of the floor, not being able to withstand how pathetic he was being when he couldn't help but imagine the little spark of hopefulness in the depths of Dave's irises. He knew as he walked away, however, that he was _not_ imagining Dave's gaze following him until he disappeared around he corner.

* * *

He was the only person in weight room when he heard the creaking of the door, and he was naïve to believe that it was only another member of the gym coming to work out. Besides the handful of people downstairs on the ellipticals and the older couple running on the treadmills, the building was practically deserted. Before Kurt could look up from where he reclined upon the weight bench to see if his suspicions were correct, his ears told him first who had just entered the room.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Kurt." Kurt was close to dropping the weight upon his chest from being startled as he heard the shuffle of feet moving towards him accompanied by an annoyed huff. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Balancing my checkbook, what does it look like I'm doing?" Kurt rolled his eyes, grunting in annoyance as he bench pressed the barbell above his head once more. His arms wavered dangerously as Dave hovered over him. Dave spread his legs slightly as he let his hands float just underneath the bar in case Kurt's arms decided to give out. Kurt gritted his teeth, stubbornly thinking about how he was doing perfectly fine until Dave showed up.

"What if you had hurt yourself?" Dave interrogated. "I bet you didn't even bother with warming up." Kurt stuck his chin out farther as he closed his eyes against the strain as he lifted the weight once more. The gruff voice continued on, belying the fact that he wasn't alone.

"You're not even breathing through it. How are your muscles supposed to get oxygen?"

"When you're done being condescending," Kurt snapped, glaring up at Dave as he held the barbell, suspended in the air. "You'll know that I'm fine. I'm not a fragile little flower. I can take care of myself." Maybe he wouldn't be so pissed off if it hadn't been for what happened two nights ago, or he fact that, from where Dave was standing, it looked as though his trainer was staring down his nose at him.

"I wasn't trying to be condescending. I..." he paused, taking a breath and closing his eyes. "I was just trying to be considerate. I was worried, is all." His eyes softened considerably and Kurt couldn't help the guilt from pooling in his stomach from snapping at Dave.

Kurt was silent until he realized that his arms were still at a ninety degree angle with the rest of his body as he stared at Dave. Quickly adjusting his line of sight from Dave and the noticeable bulge in his too tight slacks, which was dangerously close to his line-of-sight, to the incandescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

Kurt cleared his throat.

"Do you ever go home?" he asked dully. Dave cocked his head, looking at him mildly confused.

"I didn't think you worked on Sundays," Kurt clarified.

"Oh..." Realization dawned upon Dave's features. He shook his head, though agreeing with him. "No, you're right. I don't actually. Usually work on Sundays, that is," he added as he stumbled over the words.

Kurt couldn't help but realize how this Dave seemed like a completely different person than the one with whom he already spent so much time with, though in such a short _period_ of time. He lacked the debonair charm that he was used to seeing during their one-on-one time. The bright smile and sparkling eyes were absent as well. Kurt didn't believe that either impression of Dave was a false pretense, rather this Dave... This Dave seemed _human _- vulnerable, relatable, and, he realized with a churning stomach, obviously hurt and too tired to hide it.

"One of the girls who works at the front desk couldn't come in because her kid was sick. They had to go to the hospital early this morning," he explained. "I said I could come in until the next person comes in for their shift. It's not like I had anything better to do." He shrugged, further emphasizing the fact that it was no big deal.

"That was nice of you," Kurt said simply and in a soft tone, his eyes looking everywhere else but Dave and his looming presence.

"I've been told I could be a pretty nice guy." Kurt swallowed thickly as he looked up towards Dave. He let this statement weigh on him.

Part of him wanted to believe this Dave _did_ exist - the Dave that walked him home that night and lent him his jacket. But then there was the issue of the Dave who misconstrued his efforts in saying he wasn't looking for a relationship so callously. He felt conflicted, especially considering how he was the one to tell Dave he wasn't looking for a relationship with someone. What was wrong with casual sex between two people attracted to one another? It wasn't as though he was opposed to one night stands with guys at the bar. Why did it seem to make such a difference when it came to Dave? Perhaps _he_ was the one in the wrong.

But then what could explain why Dave looked like the one who had been hurt?

"Kurt?" Dave's voice broke through his train of thought.

"Hmm?" Kurt hummed noncommittally.

"I asked why you wanted to know whether I worked on Sundays?" Kurt moistened his lips.

"I was beginning to think..." Kurt started. He shook his head._ 'No,'_ he told himself._ 'It sounds ridiculous.'_

"Never mind." Kurt felt a twinge in his arm and he grimaced.

"I need to stop," he stated quickly changing the subject, and Dave quickly helped him put the barbell back on its holder.

"Are you okay?" Dave sounded concerned, at least enough to forget about what Kurt came close to revealing, and Kurt couldn't help the little lump that formed in his throat. He sat up, now straddling the bench as he rubbed his arm with the opposite hand to lessen the ache.

"Just a little sore from not working out in a couple of days. I'll be fine." Kurt attempted to reassure him, but he was already dropping down on his knees next to Kurt. What happened next made Kurt's heart flutter and his stomach swoop.

Dave gently took Kurt's hand and gently pulled it towards his body as he let his other hand travel up the underside of his arm. Kurt felt his eyes grow heavy as the hand caressed him, barely there as it ghosted over his skin and stopped just above his elbow upon his bicep, now feeling much more weighty as it massaged and kneaded the muscles rather skillfully with his deft fingers.

"I told you that you should have warmed up first." Kurt pursed his lips as Dave sat up a little higher on his knees, still massaging his arm but now at eye level with Kurt. Kurt glanced up, narrowing his eyes warningly. Dave chuckled softly, bringing back some of the sparkle in his eyes. Kurt's eyes lingered upon Dave's lips as he smiled for the first time since he last saw him. It was hard to believe someone could be so handsome. He decided that he liked this Dave best, open and carefree, as well as selfless, kind, and gentle. He sobered up quickly as he spoke up.

"What I was going to say before, about you being here..." he said throatily, and he gave a little cough to clear his throat. "I was half hoping that maybe... You had been waiting for me?" It came out as a question, and Dave stopped his ministrations as he looked curiously at Kurt. His head was still inclined downward from where he was looking at Kurt's arm, and Kurt found himself bombarded with the image of Dave going down on him once more. Kurt continued on nonchalantly as he looked away from Dave. "That maybe you were waiting to see if I would eventually show up."

"You weren't here on Friday," Dave stated plainly as he returned to massaging Kurt's arm. He said it as if Kurt might have forgotten this vital information.

"I know," Kurt said patiently in a soft tone, as if their conversation was far too private for even the walls to eavesdrop upon. He turned around to face Dave more comfortably, swinging his leg over the bench. When Kurt saw the hurt in Dave's eyes, he couldn't help but fib.

"I was sick," he said thinking of Dave's co-worker's kid. "There must be something going around."

"Oh." When Dave looked back up, Kurt could see the relief in his eyes, and Kurt knew exactly what it was he was thinking. He thought he was still angry at him after how they ended things on Thursday. And maybe he still was... A _little._

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better," Dave breathed, stroking the skin on his arm with just his thumb. Kurt gave him a weak smile just before Dave rolled forward on his knees, his lips connecting with the corner of Kurt's mouth. Dave's hands reached up and cupped either side of his jaw before kissing him like he was about to disappear from underneath his hands. Kurt gaped in shock and he gently pushed Dave away.

"Dave... What are you..? Somebody could come in." Dave laughed, placing his hands on top of Kurt's thighs as he pulled back.

"Are you kidding? Hardly anybody is here." He slid his hands up Kurt's thighs and Kurt looked towards the door anxiously. "It's Sunday. Everybody is either at church or sleeping in. Besides, the building has great acoustics. We'll be able to hear if someone is coming." Kurt gnawed on his bottom lip. He stared at Dave kneeling before him, waiting patiently for permission, and that was when he realized that Dave _wanted_ him. Right then and there. And if _that_ wasn't the biggest turn on...

Kurt nodded his head minutely but surely, exhaling nervously as Dave's thick arms slid around his tiny waist. Dave scooted in closer between Kurt's legs as he latched his mouth upon Kurt's neck. Kurt's body felt like it was crackling with the heat shared by the two of them. He craned his neck to allow Dave more access as he closed his eyes and wound his arms around Dave's shoulders, feeling the gentle nibbles and suction of lips replaced by the soothing wetness as he lathed his tongue over the abused flesh.

"That's a new one." Kurt heard him mumble as he dragged his lips toward his jaw. At first Kurt wasn't sure what he was referring to, but then he realized what he had uttered as Dave worked him over expertly. "I like hearing you saying my name like that." He practically growled. "It's sexy."

Kurt could feel his bundle of nerves being steadily replaced with arousal at Dave's praise. He didn't think anybody had ever referred to him as_ sexy_. It only made his skin buzz with more excitement, as much as he wasn't inclined to believe Dave's words. But he pushed that thought away anyway and just as Dave began move in, he uttered the two syllables once more.

"_David_..." Kurt let out a sigh, muffled as Dave captured his lips. His tongue pressed greedily at the moist seam of his lips and Kurt groaned, his nails digging into the back of Dave's neck as he allowed him to slip his tongue inside. Kurt pressed his body closer to Dave's, his hands grabbing for the front of Dave's shirt, fingers clutching at the fabric, the hot slide of their tongues making his mind a blank slate, processing only the quiet, mewling sounds coming from him and the way his nerve endings picked up on the way Dave dragged his fingers over the thin fabric covering his back.

"Fuck," Dave hissed as he pulled away, and Kurt whimpered at the loss. Past his heavy eyelids, Kurt was able to make out Dave staring at his lap. Just as Dave was about to reach for the waistband, Kurt came to his senses shaking his head, taking the hands in his regrettably.

"As much as I would love to do this here..." They shared a look and it was clear that they were both thinking the same thing - Kurt's fantasy of being fucked on the weight bench. Just as Dave was beginning to look downtrodden at notion that neither of them would be getting off that day, he continued, "I know for a fact that I won't be able to come when all I can think about is the possibility that somebody could walk in at any minute. Meet me in the locker room in five minutes."

He pressed a kiss to Dave's mouth before standing up uneasily. He grabbed his bag, which was on the floor next to him, and maneuvered around Dave, who was still kneeling on the floor, as he walked to the door. Just as he was about to push it open, he turned around, sparing a glance at Dave. Kurt noticed that the other man's eyes were focused far lower than where his eyes were at, and he realized that Dave was checking his ass out as he walked away. Kurt inhaled sharply, a new-found confidence stealing its way into his psyche, making him stand a little straighter. He flicked his hair out of his eyes as he smirked coyly at Dave.

"Don't keep me waiting." The corner of his lips quirked up knowingly. He doubted that Dave would have any problem meeting him downstairs in time, knowing that his own case of blue balls was enough to make him want to drag the both of them to the elevator with the thought of Dave's cock filling him up again. He knew, however, that they had to be discrete. He was fairly certain Dave's employees and higher-ups would not be happy if they found out that Dave was screwing one of his clients and at his place of work, no less.

The last thing he saw before walking out the door was Dave, looking hot and bothered, if not a little dumbstruck at the idea that maybe he hadn't completely screwed this up after all.

* * *

_**I have about... Oh... Three more chapters planned after this, counting the epilogue, so there is plenty of time for more angst (definitely), smut (**_**obviously**_**), and revelations (of the best variety).**_


End file.
